The Story of her Destruction
by A-Dreamer-dreams-everyday
Summary: And with that shaky fingers left a keyboard while silent tears streamed down a face completely focused on the screen in front of it. She had done it. She had completed the task. She had written it all down. Her story. The story of her destruction.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone :)**

 **This is something I wanted to try. It is diffrent and it is dark. Although I wrote it I'm not sure what to think about it so maybe you can help me by reviewing. But I don't want to spoil to much. ;)**

 **Just let me add a short trigger warning: This story deals with abuse and mistreating in many ways.**

 **And now, let the story of her destruction begin.**

I do not own anything of the 100.

* * *

Dreams.

A dreamer dreams every day.

Well, let's just replace the word 'dreamer' with the word 'people'.

People dream.

I believe that every human being on this planet dreams of something. Maybe it is something big, maybe it is something small. But every single one of us dreams.

Dreams are what keep us going. They are fantasies we can escape to when everything around us becomes dark. Dreams are the light in our lives.

It does not even matter if we succeed or fail in fulfilling them.

No matter how old, which gender, skin color, religion or life a person has, there is always a little dream trapped inside that person. An imagination how things could have been different or a secret need that nobody knows of.

Sometimes it happens that dreams become reality. Maybe it is rarely happening, maybe it happens every day. I don't know.

Maybe sometimes we realize that the dream we have is not what we want.

Maybe sometimes it makes us realize that what we have is great and even better than what we dreamed of.

These are the kind of dreams that have the ability to change lives.

These are the kind of dreams that make you feel better.

These are the kind of dreams that give you hope.

But these dreams are not the only kind of dreams in this world.

There are also the bad ones.

The ones that destroy your hope.

The ones you can't escape from because they are haunting you every single day.

The ones that creep into your sleep and take away everything you ever had.

These dreams are called nightmares and for some people there is no escape from them.

Never. 

* * *

How can one start over?

How can one be able to forget?

How can one start to live again when everything is broken?

I don't know why I decided to write everything down. To tell my story.

Maybe it helps to deal with everything that happened. Maybe not.

Maybe it is shocking what happened to me. Maybe it is just not that bad.

My life was and still is a heap of ruins.

It is up to me now to gather all these ruins and to figure out what is still intact or rather to find something that can be fixed.

It is not easy because on this path fear is my loyal friend.

The fear of finding nothing that is intact.

The fear of finding nothing that can be fixed.

The fear of losing hope. 

I stood with my back against the door. In her room. At her house. We had been fighting once again. I cannot remember why we were fighting but apparently I made a mistake and she was angry and disappointed. At this point of time we were dating for almost six months and our relationship was actually beautiful and happy. When we fought back then it wasn't bad. There was no screaming, there were no accusations or intense emotions involved. Most of the time we remained silent. Silent until somebody apologized and then everything was alright again.

But this day was different.

We didn't remain silent. No one apologized and everything was alright again.

Like I said, I can't remember why we fought but I can clearly remember what happened that day.

On that day while we were fighting she hit me for the first time.

That day was three years ago.

And since that day nothing is the same. 

* * *

**The Beginning**

I loved her.

Wrong.

I Love her.

It rather seems like a thing of impossibility after everything that happened if one knew the whole story but who understands love, right?

Back then more than three years ago I was happy.

I think back then I was truly happy for the first time in my life.

She was the first person I loved. The first person I would have done everything for.

Wrong.

I did everything for her. 

I was 19 and a person that didn't care much about relationships. Until then I had never been faithful in a relationship. I was never able to open myself up completely instead I always kept a certain distance.

Why? Maybe because of my past. Maybe because I never truly loved anyone I had been with. But who knows.

With her everything was different though.

I was completely in love with her and certain that she would be the woman I was going to marry someday and spend the rest of my life with.

I wanted to change, wanted to be faithful, wanted it to last forever.

Today I'm aware of how naive I was back then.

Today I'm not sure if she ever loved me at all.

It is not like our relationship was all bad, no, we had good moments too. But when I look at the relationship in retrospect I question myself how I could have been so blind.

How I could not see that she destroyed my whole life.

When we started dating I was the happiest person on earth.

I finally found what I was not even looking for.

The one true love.

A person accepting me for who I was.

A person I wanted to spend my whole life with.

I had what everybody is dreaming of.

At least I thought I had.

Our relationship went great. I would almost say it was perfect. We were there for each other, shared everything and knew one another better than anyone ever could.

But someday it started to change. I did not see it then. I took it as a matter of course. I thought it was normal.

Today I think differently. Nothing was normal. Nothing at all. 

I don't know the exact time it started or when it happened for the first time. But someday she started to manipulate me and to use me for her advantage.

At first it was only about small things. Like when we were invited to a birthday party and we could not make it on time but instead we were late it was my fault. It did not matter if it was the truth or not.

It was my fault.

It was my fault when we were late.

It was my fault when she made a mistake.

Everything was my fault.

I was her excuse so she did not have to disappoint anyone because it was important to her what other people thought. She did not realize what that did to me. I did not realize it myself.

I did everything for her. Really everything. Even if I wanted to leave to start a new job I didn't. I stayed.

With her. Here.

A prisoner in a life I never wanted. Unable to do anything about it.

To weak to leave her.

To blind to see who she really was. 

We had been fighting once again. I was in our bedroom. We were now living together.

I had locked myself in and sat with my back against the door.

I was afraid.

Afraid of her.

Afraid of what she would do to me.

She stood outside the locked door and begged me to let her in. She wanted to apologize.

She said she was sorry and that I should let her in.

I didn't know what to do.

I was afraid and didn't know if she meant the things she said. I didn't knew if she was sincere or not. I just knew if I didn't let her in now she would kick the door sooner or later.

How I knew that?

She had done it before.

I also knew if that happened I had worse to expect as if I let her in now.

Maybe this time she meant what she said and she really was sorry and wanted to apologize truthfully.

Maybe she finally realized that she needed help.

Maybe this would all be over now.

That little spark of hope let me open the door.

I turned the key, the lock opened, the door flew open and before I even realized what was happening I was pushed against the bedroom wall. Unable to move just one inch.

I was wrong.

My hope had failed me.

Once again.

She didn't want to apologize. It was not the end.

When I saw into her eyes I saw nothing. No glimmer of emotion.

Just Cold.

Freezing cold and hatred.

I didn't know who that person in front of me was but I knew that it was definitely not the woman I knew.

'You had to provoke me once again, hadn't you? You are really enjoying that, aren't you?' she hissed with gritted teeth.

I apologized.

Said I was sorry and didn't want that to happen. I begged her to let me go.

I was close to tears and it was just a matter of time until they would find their way down my face.

A way they knew too well.

A way of almost daily routine.

To my surprise she actually did let me go. I slid down the wall and broke down. The tears were coming now the strength was gone.

No strength to get up.

No strength to run away.

My head was resting on my knees which I pulled up close to my chest and covered with my arms.

'Please, please just stop! Please don't hurt me anymore' I begged her shaken from sobs.

She laughed.

A laugh so cold that I started to freeze.

'It's your own fault. You provoked me.'

I don't know how many times she said that.

It was my fault because I provoked her.

It was my fault that she hurt me.

That is just one of many scenes from our relationship.

Since a certain point of time these scenes were happening every day.

Every fucking day. 

I can't remember exactly when it started but someday, somehow something inside of me changed. Something I cannot let go of, even today.

Fear. The feeling of fear.

I didn't know or rather wasn't aware of how much a person could be captured by a feeling.

I was captured by that feeling. She burned it into my soul and I am not sure if I can let go of it or if it is going to hunt me until the end of my days.

Everybody knows fear. Everybody knows how it feels to be afraid.

But I highly doubt that everybody got to know the feeling of fear as well as I did.

I don't know how that feeling creeped into my life. I just remember it being there all of the sudden.

Probably an understandable reaction of the human being, when it is threatened, hurt, manipulated and terrorized.

For me, it was blank horror.

A constant living in fear.

A constant feeling of panic.

Eventually I was so afraid, that I panicked every day when I had to get home after work.

I knew she would be there waiting for me and I knew what she would do to me.

As much as I tried to forget all the bad things and to push all the terrible thoughts away, I was helpless. Helpless captured in her web of lies.

At this point in our relationship she attacked me every day. Every fucking day. Whatever it was, punches or cruel words, one of those things always awaited me when I got home. I was caught between a rock and a hard place. Pain or suffering.

Most of the time one thing complemented the other.

While I was shoved to the ground and my back was beaten blue she whispered devastating insults into my ears.

Every day she broke a little piece of me.

Every day she took a part of me.

Until there was nothing left to take.

Until she broke me completely. 

* * *

****

**The Loophole**

Everything had changed. I had changed.

I had also given her many chances to change, to stop hurting me and to stop destroying me.

I always had hope, even if it was just a tiny spark, that she would.

That she would do it for me because she loved me and because one does not treat a loved one the way she had been treating me.

But eventually after uncountable incidents I started to lose hope. I started to take myself out of the equation, to protect myself from her.

When she wanted to go out with friends on the weekend and wanted me to come with her I stared to say no.

I didn't want to be her excuse anymore.

So while she was out on the weekends I was home. Alone.

These nights were my saving.

On these nights I didn't have to be afraid because she wasn't there to abuse me.

It was the only time in which I was able to escape the constant tautness that was haunting me.

It was also the time in which I realized how much I missed having time for myself. Just being alone without pretending to be someone else.

It was the time in which I could let go.

Back then I didn't know where the braveness to confront her came from.

Today I believe that my former work played a big part in it.

At that time, I was working at a youth facility.

I buried myself with my job and I flourished. I received a lot of positive feedback and compliments regarding my ambition and engagement from my colleagues.

Today I know that everything I missed in my relationship I searched and found in my work.

It was my escape, my loophole. 

It was the end of January when I made a decision. A decision I wanted to keep at every cost.

To prove myself that I could at least be a little bit loyal to myself.

We had been fighting once again. Almost a banality but nevertheless always connected to pain.

The fight was over and we were lying in our bed. She was sound asleep next to me while I just could put my head to rest. It tortured me with horrible thoughts and keep me awake.

These thoughts mostly involved how I got into the situation I found myself in now. How I could have been so blind and so stupid. How I was able to love someone that abused and terrorized me. How I was able to forget myself.

As I was lying there, next to her, in that night I promised myself that I would never cry because of her. That I would never show her how weak I was without her again and that I would never open myself up to her completely.

Later that night she woke up and realized that I was still awake. She asked why I wasn't sleeping and I told her that I didn't know. She knew how much her behavior hurt me but nevertheless she always pushed it away so that she did not had to deal with it.

She was lying next to me, quiet, and I wasn't saying a word either.

But suddenly her voice broke through the silence and my whole body twitched. She asked what I was thinking. That was the moment I told her that I would never cry because of her. That I didn't want to be treated the way she treated me.

Nobody deserves to live the way as I did at that time.

After this short conversation in the middle of the night she stared to change. She started to treat me like a human being again and not like her property with which she could do what she wanted.

However, it was to late. I had withdrawn myself. I had started to build my wall again so that she could not see my vulnerability and weakness.

As much as I wanted to open up again I couldn't. Every part of my body and soul refused to trust her again.

To hope again.

To find faith in something good.

That is how much she destroyed me. 

* * *

And with that shaky fingers left a keyboard while silent tears streamed down a face completely focused on the screen in front of it.

She had done it.

She had completed the task.

She had written it all down. Her story.

The story of her destruction.

Leaning back into the comfort of her chair she took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

Now she could feel it. It was gone.

She could finally feel her heart again.

Well, at least a part of it. But it was enough to make her feel free from the chains she laid on herself a long time ago.

And for the rest of her heart that was still trapped in a downward spiral she would maybe write that part down too.

But that was another story. For another time.

With that final thought playing in her mind she got up and closed the notebook in front of her. Leaving the room she had been writing in without looking back.

She was a different person now. And she was ready to show it to the world. 

* * *

**So, what do you think ? Like or not ?**

 **Should I continue ?**

 **I would be really happy about any feedback. So please leave a review. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

She keeps me grounded.

She gives me strength.

She gives me safety.

Lets me smile.

Day after day. 

She is my hiding place.

She is my sanctuary.

She is my loyal friend.

Never leaves me.

Day after day. 

She protects me.

She seduces me.

She betrays me

and everyone around me.

Day after day. 

She lets me live.

She lets me forget.

She lets me suppress.

Cold and getting colder.

Day after day. 

Without her, nothing.

Without her, in pieces.

Without her, hurt. 

Without her, icy.

Without her, broken.

Without her, lost. 

She fights back.

She burns into my soul.

She claws into my flesh.

Never lets go.

Day after day. 

She cracks.

She breaks.

She falls.

Bare and exposed.

Day after day. 

To take her off.

To not use her.

To never put her on.

A constant fight.

Day after day. 

She forces herself.

She whispers sweet nothings.

She never gives up.

She lets me live.

Day after day. 

At the same time in a different place… 

I don't really know where or how I am supposed to start this.

I don't even know why I am writing this down.

Maybe because someday it will be the only thing that is left.

 _Who are you?_

A simple question with a simple answer.

But how about if you ask yourself this question, if you question yourself: 'Who are you?'

Suddenly the question is not simple anymore just as the answer to that question.

Maybe there is not even an answer to that question when you question it yourself.

 _Who are you?_

Three simple words and yet they have the ability to change everything.

When we meet a stranger and that person asks: 'Who are you?' The answer is almost comparable to an instinctive reaction. We answer with our name.

But is that not the wrong answer?

Is there even a wrong answer to that question?

Who am I to decide that the answer is wrong?

Let's pretend it is the wrong answer, what would be the right?

 _Who are you?_

A small light illuminated the room.

It was not bright and it seemed like it was not enough to break through the dark. But it fought. It danced around in its corner trying to shine brighter, to offer more. Never realizing that it couldn't because it was just a light.

A woman stood beside the small light. Her eyes locked at her own reflection in the mirror in front of her.

The light offered just enough brightness to make the features of her face visible. Long wavy hair surrounding the line of her forehead, dropping down over her shoulders before her jaw line started and developed itself into the line that formed her chin. Her nose was hidden by the shadows surrounding her.

It was hard to recognize the face that was starring at itself in the mirror completely. Except for her it wasn't. She was able to see every inch of her face. Her eyes, her nose, her lips and even the small scar beneath her chin which was almost impossible to recognize even in bright daylight.

But she could see it. She saw everything.

Her hands gripped tighter at the sink they were holding onto and her jaw clenched.

She didn't know how often it had happened over the past months. She stopped counting long ago.

She didn't even know why she was doing what she did at the moment. Or she did know but would never admit that to herself.

It didn't make anything better and it sure as hell didn't help her in any way.

The grip of her hands eased and her jaw relaxed again.

Although it was impossible to make out her eyes in the poorly lit room it seemed like she was searching for something in her own reflection.

She didn't know the person staring back at her anymore and she wondered if she ever had.

A long time ago she thought she had it all figured out. She thought she knew everything and her whole life had been planned to the smallest detail. She was excited to life that life.

Back then she knew exactly who she was and what she wanted.

But not anymore. Everything had changed.

Almost inaudible three little words left her now parted lips. But for her it sounded like someone stood right beside her and screamed the words into her ear. Leaving it ringing with the echo over and over again.

'Who are you?'

A look of desperation began to develop itself on her face still staring at its own reflection.

The words were still thundering in her ears.

'Hey where are you? It's getting cold without you here.'

She winced as soon as she heard the muffled words which were still clouded with sleep leaving the mouth of the person in the room next to her.

She had completely forgotten that she wasn't alone.

A flash of regret washed over her face as she released her hands from the sink and rid herself of her own reflection.

She slowly made her way to the door leaving her bathroom and the mirror behind as she entered her bedroom.

While she was stepping inside she heard the person speak to her again. Sleep now leaving the voice and although it was dark inside the room she could see the smile now playing around the corners of the lips of said person.

'Come back to bed.'

'You should leave.'

Her voice was void of emotion as the statement left her mouth. Her face was hard and cold.

She stood with her back against the bathroom door while her front was facing the bed observing the person inside of it.

Confusion became visible in the features of the stranger who was now sitting in her bed staring at her.

'Why?'

She didn't answer. She just crossed the still dark room and left the stranger in her bed behind wondering what the hell just had happened.

She was in the kitchen, pouring herself a cup of coffee when she heard someone step up behind her. She turned around and locked her eyes with the stranger who was no longer in her bed but standing right in front of her now. Confusion was now clearly visible all over the face for her to see.

'Why do you want me to leave? I thought we had fun yesterday.'

Confusion was still present in the words as they left the strangers mouth. But there was something else that swung with them. Disappointment.

'I don't do sleepovers', was all she said. Her voice and face still missing any kind of feeling as she turned around and finished pouring her coffee.

'So you just go out, pick up whoever you want, fuck with them for as long as you want and then throw them out afterwards!?'

Disappointment was now clearly recognizable in the stranger's voice and it made her groan internally. She closed her eyes while her back was still facing the stranger before she turned around. Her voice was calm and controlled.

'Look, I needed someone and you were there. We fucked and now it's over, so you can leave.'

The stranger still stared at her with disappointment and a slowly shaking head. The eye contact between them broke as the stranger turned around and headed for the door to leave.

Just as the stranger was finally about to leave one hand already on the handle of the door a head turned over a shoulder. The person locked eyes with the woman on the other side of the room who was leaning with her back against the counter and holding a cup of coffee in her hands.

'I thought you were different.'

And with that the stranger was gone and the body of the woman twitched as the door fell shut.

Suddenly a flash of hurt washed over the woman's face and the muscles of her body tightened turning the knuckles of her fingers white as the grip around the coffee cup grew stronger.

But just as quick as it happened it disappeared.

The grip loosened and the muscles relaxed as her face became void of emotion again.

She had put her mask back on. She was leaving whatever it was she felt trapped inside.

The mask was the one letting her live.

Day after day.

* * *

Please let me know what you think about this...I still feel kind of unsure about it...

Like or not reviews are always welcome :)


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